


The Most Awkward Introduction.  Ever.

by LightningStriking



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Crack, Fluff, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Silly Prompt, Stucky - Freeform, so ridiculous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 12:58:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8373100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightningStriking/pseuds/LightningStriking
Summary: A burned out lightbulb.  Steve in a towel.  Sweaty Bucky.  The ridiculous story of how two men met in pretty much the most unexpected manner ever.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the lovely Cukimonstaaa for the delightful prompt, and many thanks to the fantastic bluebobbins for both helping me expand the idea, and being a marvelous beta :D I hope you enjoy this ridiculous, fluffy story!

Bucky Barnes did not know any of his neighbors. Five years he'd lived in the same building, and he'd never met a single one. Such a feat wasn't mere happenstance, or a long running coincidence that he _never_ managed to be in the hallway at the same time as the numerous people existing within the same limited space. This was a very deliberate choice. Bucky didn't like neighbors. Neighbors had questions.

            Questions like: What's up with the metal arm? Why do you keep such weird hours? What in the _world_ are you doing that makes such a racket, five nights a week? Every. Single. Week. If not questions, more often than not he was at the receiving end of an indignant and occasionally creative string of four letter words, given his noisy nocturnal activities. Not that he didn't deserve it. He knew he did. But since he had zero intention of changing his ways, he'd rather just avoid it altogether. Hence, the avoiding of the neighbors. Hard for people to yell at him when they never actually _saw_ him. True, Bucky got the occasional angry letter shoved furiously under his door. Or, memorably, an incredibly detailed drawing of just how 5F could like to enact Bucky's very violent and painful death, taped to his door. He had to give 5F points for creativity. He couldn't have thought up that particular scenario in his wildest dreams.

            Still. Deserved or not, his life ran smoother without the questions or the yelling. And while he may have hung the drawing of stick figure Bucky suffering a horrific death on his fridge purely because he was impressed by the ingenuity and attention to detail, he had no intention of giving anyone opportunity for retaliations or interrogations. Because precisely what Bucky was getting up to, was a secret. One he intended to take to the grave. Fate, however, had other plans.

 

 

Steve Rogers was an amazing neighbor. The type of neighbor that took on mythical properties, discussed in the way unicorns were - uncontested agreement that they were awesome, but no one _really_ believed they existed. Particularly in Brooklyn, where people were simply grateful if their neighbors didn't shank them while they collected their mail. It was a tough city, and some people would do anything for a good Domino's coupon, after all.

            Steve, though - Steve was quiet and respectful, giving the people below, beside, or above him no reason to complain. He always held the elevator for someone when it worked (rarely), or happily lent a hand carrying groceries up countless flights of stairs when the elevator didn't work (frequently). He checked the batteries in his smoke detector annually, fixed the reoccurring leak under the sink rather than call the landlord, because really, why be a bother when he could handle it himself? And best of all, at least in the opinion of the females in the building, he wasn't exactly painful to look at.

            Bucky Barnes had of course never met Steve Rogers. However, despite the lack of any contact whatsoever - visual, verbal or otherwise - Steve was already Bucky's favorite neighbor. Because best of all in _Bucky's_ opinion, Steve, who had the dubious honor of living next to Bucky, never once complained about the noise. Which pounded through the paper thin walls, without fail, night after night. Tonight being no exception.

            Steve wasn't oblivious to the noise, which given the caliber of soundproofing in the ancient building (in other words, even less reliable than the elevator), came through the adjoining wall into his living room. But he wasn't the type to complain. After all, whatever his neighbor was getting up to, it was clearly important since it occurred routinely. Far be it for Steve to declare his own peace and quiet was more valuable than whatever 2F was getting up to. So instead, Steve simply invested in a quality set of headphones. And wore them. A lot.

            Tonight however, he was oblivious to the thumping and pounding noises coming from next door, wrapping a towel around his waist as he exited the bathroom, which in a baffling expression of architectural creativity, had been placed on the opposite end of his apartment from the bedroom. He was too caught up thinking happy thoughts about the mac n' cheese in his immediate future to contemplate anything else. Until he noticed the light bulb in the living room flicker feebly a few times, before giving up the good fight, and burning out altogether. Immediately diverted, Steve detoured into the kitchen, and dug under the sink for his stash of spare light bulbs. Reaching up to remove the dead bulb, he was absently grateful for the height that allowed him to do it without the indignity of a step stool. Steve remembering well his younger days when just about everything was out of reach: cereal on the top shelf, dates, his pride. Thank goodness those days were over.

            As he screwed in the new bulb, Steve's towel - which had been valiantly holding on - lost the battle against gravity and fell to the floor. Yet Steve was unconcerned, considering there was no one around to catch an eyeful. Until, that is, the noise next door culminated in a fantastic crash . His living room wall exploded spectacularly. Dust and drywall showering down on the man who had just come careening through it.

 

 

Bucky was pretty sure he was dead. Death seemed like a logical repercussion of smashing into, and then _through_ , a wall. After all, aside from cartoon characters, who actually did that? Bucky, apparently. Because he was the most awkward person in the entirety of existence. Coughing as dust and flecks of drywall floated down around him, Bucky stared at the sight that met his eyes, and felt reassured of the accuracy of his assessment over his demise, given that he was staring at what could only be a creation of God. Light illuminating at that precise moment to shine down like the heavens on the most gorgeous man Bucky had ever seen. Golden hair brighter than the sun, intense sky blue eyes, a face so beautiful it was unreal. And that body... that very very naked body. Sweet Jesus. Miles of tanned skin, acres of perfectly sculpted muscle. This man was absolutely perfect. _Everywhere_. Bucky was relatively certain he could hear choirs of angels singing. Yep. Dead.

            "Uh... hi," Tall, golden and gorgeous said, eyes widening as he stared at Bucky. Who immediately realized what he was actually hearing was a ringing in his ears. No choir. No angels. Not dead. Shit.

            "Oh my God. I am so sorry," Bucky said, snapping his eyes shut at what clearly was _not_ his reward for a life well lived, which was a crying shame because he would definitely have preferred the sex-on-a-stick vision that was his neighbor over twenty virgins and all that jazz. Whirling around blindly to make as swift and dramatic an exit as his entrance had been, desperate to use the new Bucky-shaped hole that graced the wall as a quick getaway, Bucky, human disaster, instead slipped on a bit of rubble, and flailing wildly, went down.

            Groaning as he hit the floor, jolting an already abused body, Bucky decided lying there until embarrassment killed him was probably the best bet. Given the mortification crashing through him, he was sure it wouldn't take long. But apparently it took long enough, because before he could die in peace and leave this entire debacle - and a lifelong history of awkwardness - behind, hot naked guy was rushing over. Presumably to give aid. But if he really wanted to help, Bucky figured he'd use all those mouthwatering muscles to smother Bucky and send him on his way to the afterlife where he would never _ever_ meet another neighbor again. Cracking open an eye, to see six-feet-plus of perfection kneeling next to him, that divine face set into an expression of concern, those sexy hands reaching out to help Bucky up (who was very resistant, because being flat on his back was just one step closer to dead) Bucky sighed. Closed his eye again.

            "Hey, buddy, are you okay? Did you hit your head? Can I get you anything? An ambulance maybe?" The not-quite-angel demanded, the unhidden worry in his deep, delightful voice heartwarming. However, Bucky was a little more distracted by all that flawless male within grabbing distance, radiating heat and sexiness like it was his job.

            "Pants," he muttered, then groaned, blindly prodding at the throbbing in his head that was only doubled by his second impact.

            "What?" the blond demanded. Probably fearing Bucky had a traumatic brain injury by this point. When instead, Bucky knew it was just a permanent case of stupidity.

            "You could help me out by getting into some pants," Bucky clarified, sighing again, and opening his eyes in time to see the confusion flicker into comprehension, then straight to mortification on the other guy's face. Which, as small as it was, he found a little satisfying - at least he wasn't the only one experiencing a possibly terminal case. Thought it was not nearly as satisfying as watching Mr. Stacked turn and sprint out of the room, because really, the view from behind was every bit as good as the front. That ass though...

            Wincing as he tried to shove himself into a somewhat upright position while his heart rate beating enthusiastically after that visual bonanza demonstrated he was sadly nowhere near the sweet oblivion of his demise, Bucky had no more than wiggled around awkwardly before the other man was back, clad in sweatpants and a t-shirt. He used all of those delightful muscles to gently manhandle Bucky until he was sitting up.

            Mouth parting, no doubt to ask what hospital he could rush Bucky off to, or perhaps ask for his emergency contact information, the blond paused. Both his and Bucky's eyes grew wide at the voice coming through the hole in the wall. "That's it ladies, really get those kicks high!"

            Oh no. Forget the wall, Bucky was prepared to throw himself straight out the window. Clearing his throat, the blond raised an eyebrow. "Is that, uh... a workout video?" Leaning ever so slightly, he peered through the Bucky-shaped hole in the wall, other brow lifting to meet the first as he stared at the incriminating proof still playing perkily on Bucky's TV. "A... Jane Fonda workout video."

            There was no God. Because if there was, he would have taken mercy on Bucky, and struck him dead with a perfectly placed bolt of lightning. Yet tragically no divine intervention interceded. Bucky's secret was out. Moaning miserably, Bucky dropped his face into his hands. Then immediately realized he was still wearing the headband holding back his long hair. Immediately yanking it off, he chucked it back through the hole in the wall. But the leg warmers... there was no help for the leg warmers. Folding his arms across his chest, Bucky glared at the man who had the audacity to look ever more gorgeous as a grin stretched across those unfairly plush lips, blue eyes lighting up in amusement. Bucky’s dark scowl practically dared the other man to comment.

            Clearly, the blond was one to take a dare. "I had no idea those videos still existed. Where did you even _get_ that?"

            Bucky was going to kill him. Then maybe apologize to the dead body, because he _had_ crashed through this guy's wall while he was enjoying some solo naked time, as was every man's right. But still. Just when Bucky thought it couldn't get any more humiliating, the nonexistent God proved him wrong. "I have to stay limber because of my injury and the weight of my metal prosthetic. My physical therapist recommended workout videos because I could do them at home, and my mom had a bunch of old tapes lying around so she said I should try them, and I like them okay? What law says a grown ass man can't enjoy sweating it out with Jane Fonda, huh? But then she was demonstrating this high kick thing and it wasn't as easy as it looked and I lost my balance and with the weight of the arm I couldn't stop before I hit the wall." His scowl grew darker still at having to do the one thing he'd sworn to himself he'd never do - explain himself to a damn neighbor. It was the cherry on top of his already impressive cake of embarrassment.

            Laughing again, the blond hauled a grumpy Bucky to his feet, and despite himself, Bucky couldn't help but appreciate the sound. All deep and warm, and surprisingly kind despite being at Bucky's expense. The way those hands felt, pulling him like he weighed nothing at all, didn't exactly hurt either. Which sadly, was about the only thing that didn't, when the rest of him was expressing very painfully and insistently why crashing through a wall was not an advisable life choice. Ouch.

            "I just lift some weights and do some yoga myself. But maybe I should join you instead. The scenery would definitely be nicer," Mr. Gorgeous added, winking at Bucky. Who blinked, frown deepening as he tried to work through that. He concluded his cognitive thought process must be affected by his collision.

            "Did you just... flirt with me?" Bucky demanded.

            "Well, you have seen me naked. Seemed like the logical next step," the blond grinned, shrugging.

            Okay. Okay this is _not_ what Bucky had expected. Like, at all. Had he considered the ramifications of turning a wall into a door, he would have anticipated a rather more negative reaction. Like yelling. More death threats. Perhaps some physical violence just to keep things interesting. Not a Greek god showing concern over his health, teasing him over his rehabilitation method of choice, and then _hitting_ on him. Bucky was forced to readjust his assessment a third time. This guy must be heaven sent after all.

            And Bucky might be an antisocial, aerobic addicted hermit, but he was no fool. Letting a smile tug across his own lips, it grew only wider when he noticed the blond's gaze narrow on his mouth. Thrusting out his hand, he appreciated the way the other man instantly took it, then held it in his own. Appreciating even more how the man hadn't done more than flick a glance over his metal arm, clearly more interested into staring into Bucky's face. Appreciating most of all how the only guy to never complain about the noise of his nightly workouts was now straight up macking on Bucky. So okay. Perhaps there was a God after all. And instead of saving Bucky’s reward of a long, decorated career in the military keeping his country safe for the afterlife, God was giving it to him now. In the form of one divinely perfect neighbor.

            "I'm Bucky," he introduced himself. Feeling a little flutter in his chest that had nothing to do with aerobic activity or blunt force trauma at the blond's dazzling smile.

            "Nice to finally meet you Bucky. I'm Steve."

            "Well Steve. Why don't I uh, try to patch this up - sorry again for the hole in the wall. Then maybe I could take you out for a drink?"

            "How about we save the patching up for later, and I take you out for dinner instead?" Steve countered, and yeah, Bucky could roll with that. Although he'd definitely be taking off the leg warmers first.

            "Dinner sounds great," Bucky grinned.

 

 

The landlord was more than a little surprised when they finally reported the damage. Admittedly, it took them a while to do so. Neither man really minded the easy access; particularly when dinner turned into a messy-haired and very happy Bucky cooking a rumpled and very happy Steve breakfast the next morning. After having demonstrated to the blond the benefits of an exercise plan that included a lot of endurance and flexibility training.

            Yet once the hole was finally repaired, Steve solemnly suggested they just use the door to visit one another going forward. And Bucky discovered when it was Steve knocking, he was perfectly happy to have a neighbor show up at his door.

**Author's Note:**

> Cheesy prompts - I just love them. I hope you liked this silly little fic, because I loved writing it. If you did, I'd love to hear from you :D Thanks for reading!


End file.
